


Thinking About You

by georgiou



Category: GLOW (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, I swear Russell is only there as a means to an end, I'm Bad At Tagging, Kissing, Light Angst, Post-Canon Fix-It, Swearing, a lot of fucking swearing, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:35:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21688450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgiou/pseuds/georgiou
Summary: Basically just a conclusion/fix-it for after the end of season 3. Sam is spending his holidays alone and Ruth is supposed to be splitting her time, half with her parents and half with Russell. Circumstances ensue...I can't write a good summary so just read it please.
Relationships: Sam Sylvia & Ruth Wilder, Sam Sylvia/Ruth Wilder
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Thinking About You

**Author's Note:**

> SO first of all I want to say that I AM NOT A WRITER but this fandom is so small that I've already read all the fanfiction for these two in a day or two so I've resorted to writing my own. I haven't decided if I'm going to write more to this or not so for now I'll say this is it (although I do have thoughts for more). Again, I am not a writer and this is not Beta'd so please be gentle. (Also if any of you ARE fanfic writers then PLEASE write so I don't have to).
> 
> Enjoy!

After visiting her family in Omaha, and nearly freezing to death because she forgot how cold it got in Nebraska, Ruth flew to LA to spend the rest of her break with Russell. He is her boyfriend, after all.

It seemed to be going fine but Ruth constantly carried a stone in her chest the shape of her guilt. Another relationship with another secret she has to keep because of her infidelity, and not unlike her friendship with Debbie, her relationship with Russell is on thin ice.

Eventually, as it tends to do, the ice breaks. Slowly, at first.

“What happened,” Russell asks, the third morning she’s back, as he’s frying up eggs for their breakfast.

“What do you mean?” Ruth is genuinely confused, since they were previously debating the pros and cons of ketchup on eggs.

Russell flips the final egg onto a paper plate and turns to her. “With Sam. What happened? And don’t lie to me. Last time we saw each other every second word to come out of your mouth was his name and now you haven’t so much as mentioned him. You’ve talked about all the girls, Sheila, Carmen, even Debbie, but not a word about him, so I know something’s up.” He has his arms crossed with the spatula poking out from one side.

But the ice always finds a way to crack beneath unsure feet.

Ruth is blindsided. After what happened with Sam, she decided that the best thing to do was pretend it never happened and try, at least for the holidays, to continue on as normal. She decided to put aside anything that had her questioning her feelings for Russell and just stay with him and enjoy his company like a regular girlfriend.

Except she isn’t a regular girlfriend. She is a cheating girlfriend who is in love with a grumpy bastard twenty years her senior. When she and Russell kissed, she wasn’t quick enough to stop her mind from comparing him to Sam. When they make love, she can’t conceal the slight disappointment within herself when the head of hair in front of her contains no grey.

“Russell… I…” She trails off to gather her thoughts. Should she tell him the truth? Make up another lie? “I’m not in love with you anymore. I thought it was just the distance and not being able to see you but I’ve been back for three days now and my feelings haven’t changed. I’m sorry, it’s not your fault. I just hoped that… I don’t know… my feelings would reignite on this trip?” It’s not a complete lie. Actually, it’s mostly truth and some omission of facts but if it steers the conversation away from the Sam-topic, she’s not too concerned.

“Wow, Ruth. I mean, I know long-distance is hard but wow.” He blows a stray curl from the front of his face, a sigh of defeat, once he realizes that her flight isn’t until the following week. “Alright, let’s just… eat breakfast and go from there.”

Ruth can see the heartbreak in his eyes. She doesn’t think she has ever seen such misery and longing in someone, not since the hot tub. No actor or actress could ever recreate the pure emotions radiating from him, even his slouched posture gave him away.

After they eat, Ruth repacks her suitcase and tells Russell she will stay with a friend until she’s due to return to Las Vegas. Russell is a decent man and helps her load up her suitcase into the back of the cab and gives the taxi driver some cash for the fair. It isn’t until after the cab’s tail lights are out of sight that he makes the connection between the question he asked Ruth and her response, but it’s too late anyways. _L’esprit de l’escalier_.

Ruth’s knee bounces uncontrollably in the taxi and her hands fidget at anything they can reach. She vaguely hears the driver ask her _where to?_ And she rhymes off an address without thinking about it. When the cab finally parks, she pays the rest of the fair and takes her suitcase from the driver’s hands only to realize what she has done.

G L O W G L O W G L O W

It’s the Christmas holidays and Justine is back with her mother until the New Year. Which is good, great, actually. Except… it means Sam is spending another Christmas alone. And now he can’t even enjoy the company of cigarettes, booze, or maybe something harder while he wallows in self-pity because of his stupid heart.

Thinking of his physical heart leads him to think about his metaphorical heart. Yeah, sappy, he knows. His metaphorical heart really isn’t in much better condition than his physical heart. Worse, probably. Where his physical heart is damaged, his metaphorical one looks like a train-wreck plowed through it.

First, Ruth rejected him outright in the hot tub, like the thought of being with him was actually fucking laughable. Then, she has to go and make his heart race like the Road Runner, only for Wile E. Coyote’s anvil to crush it so soon after.

Maybe one drink… 

He hears the slamming of a car door as he hunts for a bottle of… well anything, he’s desperate. After five minutes of hurting his back and knees, he finally finds an ancient bottle in the back of a cupboard, no doubt to save for a special occasion, but it’s Christmas. That’s special, right?

Sam doesn’t get the chance to answer his rhetorical question with the christening of his bottle before he hears a tentative knock on the door, then a more confident knock a second after.

“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying! And if you’re looking for donations, you’ll have better luck at a soup kitchen!” Sam yells out as he cracks open the seal on his whisky.

G L O W G L O W G L O W

Ruth shakes herself out of her state of shock. Is it really a wonder that she’d want to go somewhere she feels safe and loved?

She hauls her suitcase up the walkway to the front door and freezes again. What if he’s not home? His car is in the driveway. What if Justine is there? That’ll be awkward for sure. What if he has… _company_?

All of these questions race through her head but she knows that what she is really worried about is if he slams the door in her face. What if he hates her now?

She hesitantly raises her fist and taps his door with her knuckles, then raps louder once she realizes that the first was practically inaudible.

_“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying! And if you’re looking for donations, you’ll have better luck at a soup kitchen!”_

Turns out, she doesn’t have to worry about him slamming the door in her face if he doesn’t even answer the door.

She sighs, knowing what she has to do but reluctant to do it. “Sam…?” she calls out.

G L O W G L O W G L O W

As soon as her voice reaches his ears, he abandons the bottle on the counter and rushes to the door, flinging it open. There she is, standing there with wild hair, a surprised look on her face, and a suitcase at her side.

Sam has half a mind to just stand there in the doorway staring at her and forcing his mind from thoughts of pulling her into a kiss, but he mentally shakes himself and puts on a mask of indifference.

“Don’t look so shocked. What? Did you not expect me to open my own goddamn door?” He opens the door wider, taking her suitcase from her as she steps across the threshold. “Now, what in the name god happened to make you come to this fucking place during the holidays? Shouldn’t you be in Omaha or cuddled up with your boyfriend or something?” He doesn't intend to sound seriously mean but he can’t help but spit the word _boyfriend_ like a foul taste, since he has tasted her sweet lips with his own.

She stares up at him with her huge blue eyes, begging him to drown himself in them, “I… I… uh…”

“Alright, alright, sit down and take a fucking breath. What happened?” He lays down her suitcase and guides her by the small of her back to his couch. Old, taking up too much space in the small house, stained with nicotine; a little like him, actually. She sits and looks up at him and follows his movements as he sits next to her.

“I was visiting Russell. I was supposed to be for the next week but this morning… He knew something changed and I couldn’t just lie to him so… I told him.” She glances up at Sam briefly to gauge his reaction then continues, her gaze downcast. “I didn’t tell him what _happened_ but I told him the truth. I’m not in love with him anymore. I don’t love him. I don’t think I have in a while…” Ruth gradually brings her eyes up to meet his and he doesn’t know how to respond.

“He didn’t hurt you or anything, did he? I swear I’ll fucking kill him.” It’s the only thing his brain can spit out while it’s being rewired with this new information.

“No, no. Sam, it’s okay, I just left pretty quickly because it was awkward after that and I was kind of in shock and I got in the cab and I must have given the driver your address because suddenly I’m in front of your house and I’m sorry, I can book a hotel room or try to get a different flight…” She’s rambling and she knows it but she can’t handle the silence and Sam has more emotions sweeping across his face than she was taught in acting classes.

“Stay.” He finally says, his brown orbs locking with hers. “But fuck Ruth, I can’t just keep letting you break down my goddamn walls whenever you fucking please. You know I love you but I can’t just be an impulse decision, a fucking backup plan or rebound guy. Not— Not for this. This is too fucking real.”

“I know. Sam, that’s not my intention. I told Russell I don’t love him because it’s true, not just to break his heart. I’m in love with you, too. We can—if you still want this, eventually—we can take it slow. We would’ve rushed into it before but maybe this is our chance to take our time.” She covers Sam’s hand with hers.

Sam feels like his head is spinning. Everything has suddenly shifted 180 degrees in a matter of ten minutes. He was going to pour himself a drink to try and forget about how much Ruth hated him but now she’s right in front of him. And in love with him. And single. If he didn’t know what an actual heart attack felt like, he would swear that this was it. His only tether to the real world is her hand on his.

“Ruth…” He knows what he said but he can’t help but to glance at her soft lips, her mouth slightly ajar, as usual, and flicker his eyes back up to meet hers. She’s surprised, hopeful, she’s nodding slightly and he’s leaning in. Before he knows it, their lips are meeting gingerly, they slide against each other and lock in place like that’s where they always belonged. Ruth slips up and deepens the kiss further, threading her fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, before pulling back and blushing.

“Sorry, I just—”

“I know.”

Ruth turns her head and takes in the house she’s in. Not much has changed since the last time she was here. It is still sparsely decorated but the stench of cigarettes seems to have diminished, not that she minded, it reminded her of long days spent with Sam. Her eyes land on the bottle of expensive liquor opened on the counter top.

Sam follows her gaze. “Do you want a glass? It’s all I could find around this fucking place since I started cutting back,” he cuts through the silence that accumulated after their kiss.

“No, I’m good, thanks.” Ruth smiles and looks back at him. “Cutting back, huh? Decided you do want to live forever after all?” She teases and the uncomfortable tension that followed their confessions and kiss leaves the room.

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes but he wants to tell her. He hasn’t even told his fucking daughter who was sitting next to him yet but he wants to tell Ruth. Sam can already hear her nagging him about not telling her, or anyone else, sooner, but he wants to hear that, too. “I, uh—”

“Sam, I—” They both try to speak at the same time.

“You go first,” Sam snorts.

“I just wanted to say that I don’t want to hurt you ever again. I mean, I don’t doubt that we’re going to have arguments and fights from time to time, but I’m not going to leave you, Sam. I really do love you. You’re not an impulse decision or rebound guy, and if anyone was a backup guy, it was Russell. I don’t care about our age difference or the fact that you’re technically my boss, I just want to be with you, okay?”

“Okay.” Sam is adorning the biggest smile he thinks he ever has in his entire life. “Plus, the last two things could be fun to test out in bed,” he whispers and completes it with a wink.

“Fuck you…” Ruth mutters under her breath before grabbing his face for a passionate kiss. Sam fully embraces it this time and pulls her closer by her waist until she’s straddling his lap.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay okay, remember, I warned you that I'm not a writer. 
> 
> NOW if anyone has some songs in mind that remind them of this pairing, I'm making a ruth/sam playlist on spotify and I'd love any recommendations you have!


End file.
